Meaningless Memiors
by BlessedTorture
Summary: Sirius Black talks about life in general for no particular reason. tehe my friend watched me upload this .


_**The Beginning of the Meaningless Memiors **_

Look at this world. It's so big. There are so many people in it, and all of them are touched by magic, even if they don't realize it. And by magic, I mean magic in the fullest sense of the world. There is magic in every smile, every laugh, and every tear. There is magic every where you look. Magic fills the very air we breathe, and it weasels its way into every soul's heart, it bleeds into the darkest regions and brings light with it to the darkest of people. Magic is a way of life, for muggles and magic working peoples.

Then again, there are also millions of people who live without recognizing the brilliance in any form of magic in there lives. They are the sad ones. They have nothing to live for. They don't posses any knowledge of any kind of magic and magic is what keeps life interesting. Not to sound cocky or anything, just because I'm a wizard. But truly, that is what keeps life enthralling, what keeps life worth living, the magic of it. Without magic, there would be no joy in flying on a broomstick, or for the muggles, no joy in football. There wouldn't be love between a mother and a child, that sacred bond wouldn't exist. Friends wouldn't spend hours every night laughing manically at a joke neither ones get. Friends wouldn't realize that it's all the moments they don't remember that make their friendship unforgettable.

Magic is practiced by everyone, not just witches and wizards. Everyone has the power to be magical, everyone has the potential. Sure, some people will never be magic workers, never be wizards or witches. Look at Finch, he's a squib, and there are plenty of squibs in the world. But that does not mean magic does not exist for the people who cannot make rabbits turn into tea kettles. It merely means they have to look past the surface to the core and see the beauty there, see the magnificence of life itself. It means, that instead of plowing through life, not thinking of anything, merely walking, one must look up from the toils of daily life every once in a while and appreciate what's around him. The simple things, like a rainbow after a heavy rain.

Muggles aren't the only people who have to look up every once in a while. Wizards are guilty of the same crime, living life at the minimum, not recognizing the potential. They see what most people consider impossible, and they seem to think because they can change a lizard into a parrot they are completely knowledgeable of the world around them and there is not need for further study. They are wrong. There is always need for study, for contemplation. There is always a need to look around and realize the beauty that lies outside what a wand and steady hand can do.

But in order to see true magic, one must look into themselves. There is where the true enchantment lies. Within ourselves we see who we really are, we see true uniqueness, and we see the only thing we know exists. The only thing we can prove is who we are. We are who we are.

No one seems to look inside though; they look outside to outer beauty. A girls beautiful face is more likely to intoxicate a male than hard liquor. She's lovely, comely, and filled with surface magic. Even when he meets the girl and realizes that there is nothing between her two lovely ears, the enchantment and rapture continues, because she is lovely. Not until she loses her lovely looks will he realize what time he has wasted on such a feeble thing as physical beauty.

That does not mean, however, that we should discount the physical beauty. Just because it is only surface magic does not make it any less powerful, even though the effects of it are momentary. Physical beauty is a driving force in life and there isn't anything that can be done about it. It is what it is. It's the way it should be. What needs to be avoided however is the intoxication that impairs all judgment and creates an ass out of an otherwise normally wise fellow.

But, what is wise anyway? Is it someone who makes decisions based on the way society would like him too, the way his religion would like him to? Is it somebody who can make a witty comment at the drop of a hat? Somebody who knows exactly what to say at exactly the right time? Or is it something more? Being wise means that that person has the ability to look into himself and see himself for who he really is. A wise man is someone who does not compromise because there is no room for compromising. He is what he is, and that has already been decided and there isn't anything he can do about it. The wise man accepts life's challenges, but he doesn't stop living because of them. In fact, he does the opposite. He lives more because of them. A wise man takes a challenge, looks it in the eye and challenges it right back. 

What am I saying? Ranting off on tangents that aren't really prevalent to daily life and certainly not to anyone who would bother reading them. James would expect this of me, this random randimosity, but no one else would. No one else really knows me, Sirius Black. They think they do. They think I'm so smart, I have all the answers. I'm a play boy, I have all the girls. But that's not me at all. When you break it down, I'm really nothing.

Then you break it down more. Nothing is really something. Once you put a name to anything, it becomes something, if only in name. Nothing isn't something that can be understood, that's a topic for another day.

Here I sit, in my dormitory, with absolutely nothing to do. There goes that word again, nothing. Nothing but sitting here and writing nothing. It's nothing. Really. There's no point to this memoir, but I shall continue it as long as I have nothing to say. As soon as my words become relevant, I'll stop writing and go out to live what I have to say instead of sitting around doing nothing but writing about nothing.

Sirius Black


End file.
